


Fractal

by Ad_Astra



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-22
Updated: 2012-08-22
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:58:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ad_Astra/pseuds/Ad_Astra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They bleed as they fuck, and Hibari wouldn't have it any other way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fractal

Every night, it always comes to this. 

"I hate you," Hibari growls, and slams Mukuro against the wall, one tonfa pressing tightly against the bump of Mukuro's adam's apple. 

That infuriating laugh still manages to escape Mukuro's lips. It's the first sign that something isn't right, because no one should be able to laugh with a length of steel pressed against his windpipe. Hibari's eyes narrow, but Mukuro is implacable and manages to rasp out—

"But you still want me to fuck you."

An undefinable rage rises up in Hibari, partly because of the temerity of that assertion, but mostly because it's not completely _untrue_. "Shut up herbivore," he snarls, and brings his other hand down to rain punishment on his enemy, only for it to meet red bricks. 

Mukuro's arms snake themselves around him, and Hibari freezes for a second, feeling a traitorous shiver dance down his spine, acutely aware of Mukuro's breath on his nape. Mukuro says nothing, but he laughs again, and the sound buzzes at Hibari like demon-possessed flies. It's enough to snap him back to his senses, and he twists around to get away with a quick blow to Mukuro's side, spikes blooming on his tonfas as they scrape at cloth and tear the flesh beneath. Mukuro deflects the next blow easily however, his trident flashing as it swings in a graceful arc.

They fight like cats might, hissing, spitting, claws extended, and always landing gracefully on their feet. 

Hibari knows more than anyone that to fight Mukuro, it's not your weapons that matter; twin sticks of steel are poor defense against a million razor petals. It's all in his head, or so he tells himself, but likewise, Mukuro's mind is as sharp as a diamond-edged glaive and Hibari feels _that_ well enough. 

It always ends like this too. Hibari knows how to fight against solid matter, knows how to interpret and deal with the crunch of bones, the flaring pain of a spreading bruise, the flow of blood from an open wound. But Mukuro in his true form, is mist, weightless and invasive; he floats through Hibari, pinning him with nothing more than shadows, and just like that, Hibari finds himself flat on his back, and unable to breathe.

Mukuro towers over him, the tines of his trident hovering tantalizingly close across Hibari's skin, slicing the linen polo, and exposing his chest, where his lungs are beginning to burn beneath them. Then, Mukuro drops down, never breaking eye contact all the while, and licks the blood of Hibari's split lip. Hibari doesn't move, doesn't make a sound of disgust, because even though he wants to kill the bastard and rip him apart, a small part of him wants _this._

Mukuro waits until the last possible second, until Hibari's vision starts to darken, before releasing the pressure on Hibari's throat as he finally kisses him. The relief is immediate, Hibari's lungs expanding with the blessing of breath, breath that his _tormentor_ allows him. He refuses to think about the irony of it, as Mukuro's tongue slips into his mouth, scouring his palate with some sort of loose-limbed familiarity. Hibari closes his eyes and pushes back, rebellious to the very last. 

These are the only times he allows this, the bloodlust of battle making him dizzy with a hunger to be touched- to break and be broken- to feel Mukuro's pulse hitch, as Hibari sinks his teeth into his mortal nemesis' lower lip. Here, Hibari loses, and he wants; he needs and he _hates._

Mukuro breaks away then, and his mismatched eyes dance with an unholy light. His fingers skitter down the sides of Hibari's hips, a touch so light it seems almost out of place. They make quick work of his trousers, and Hibari is so so _hard,_ he only manages a soft snarl when Mukuro's fingers curl around his cock. 

Like some sort of twisted mockery, it starts to rain cherry blossoms, falling down on them in a lazy spiral, lovely and sharp. Mukuro leans over, propping himself up with the hand that isn't working Hibari's cock, and the next thing Hibari knows, Mukuro is inside him. He almost screams then- the pain is searing and exquisite, but he doesn't expect anything less so he stays silent, though the gaze he meets Mukuro's eyes with smolders with pure venom.

Petals, petals everywhere, soft and deadly at the same time, caressing Hibari's cheek like a delicate, manicured talon, drawing thin lines of red, as if saying _'I can't make you blush, but I will paint your cheeks rouge anyway.'_

But there is nothing delicate about this, because Mukuro starts to move then, fucking Hibari against the self-styled field of flowers sharp as thorns. He grits his teeth and takes it, pale pink petals delivering flash-scatter pain across his flesh. He lashes back in a futile gesture of rebellion, his arms reaching up and around, tonfas finding purchase on Mukuro's back, raking down, down, tearing across cloth, painting jagged crimson stripes on the exposed skin. They bleed as they fuck, and Hibari thinks, _It wouldn't be right any other way._

Mukuro smile is feral, and he retaliates in the most excruciating way. The trident pricks Hibari ever so slightly, but it is enough, and he feels it then, Mukuro's presence invading him, pushing against the corners of his organs, possessing every breathing cell in his body, like the worst and purest violation Hibari could ever have. This is what it's like to have someone completely inside of him, Mukuro's cock hitting repeatedly against his prostate, producing a veritable star-burst against his eyelids; Mukuro's laughter echoing in Hibari's mind like a love affair gone wrong. For those few moments, Mukuro is everywhere— wrapping around him, driving into him, coiling deep within him, and it's revolting and beautiful at the same time. For those few moments, Hibari's world shrinks to the red and blue of Mukuro's eyes and he lets himself go, allows the devil his due. 

"Don't forget," Mukuro whispers, and Hibari can no longer tell if it's spoken to his ear or directly in his mind. "I'll see you again, Hibari Kyouya."

Again and again, Mukuro gives and Hibari takes, and one final slam later, he comes undone, his mind splintering into a thousand tiny shards.

* 

Hibari wakes up, and opens his eyes to light and an open sky; Mukuro eyes are forever closed, ensconced in glass and trapped in the dark. 

Today is a new day.

-fin-

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to experiment writing violent hatesex. Obvious pairing choice is obvious.


End file.
